


The Price Paid

by junko



Series: The Hardest Lesson [4]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With his master incapacitated, Byakuya and Hisana have a chance to talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price Paid

Hisana was surprised to see Byakuya, his hair freshly washed and combed. “Oh!” she rushed from behind the desk to enclose him in a bear hug.

Normally, Byakuya couldn’t stand such public displays, but her enthusiasm infected him and he relaxed at her touch. His arms rested naturally on her shoulders and he couldn’t quite resist stroking the hair at the back of her neck. He smiled when she flustered at his intimate gesture and broke contact.

“Uh,” she continued, taking a step back, “You look so… good. But—but where is your master?”

“Sleeping,” Byakuya said truthfully. “He’ll miss diner.”

“How unfortunate,” Hisana said with a smile that made it clear her true feelings on the subject of Fuschida’s absence. She dropped her eyes, and all but fluttered her lashes at Byakuya, “I know it’s bold of me, but would you do me the honor of sitting at my table tonight? My boss is here. I’m afraid she’s heard about the fight in the courtyard this afternoon.”

“The landlady can’t blame you, surely.”

“Well, no… not exactly, but she knows what troublesome lodger Fuschida has been and well, I think she wants to ask your help controlling him.”

“I see,” Byakuya said. “I would happy to join you, though I’m not sure what assistance I can offer.”

 

#

When he and Hisana entered the dining room, Byakuya was surprised how many of the other lodgers took the time to greet him and tell him how pleased they were to see him up and about. Just as many added a disparaging comment about Fuschida’s character or offered refuge should Byakuya need in the future. The kindness of these strangers truly humbled and touched him.

“You’re a good fighter,” the old man from last night’s table told Byakuya. “Much better than that cretin who calls himself your teacher. Where did you learn to move like that?”

“I was fortunate enough to receive combat instruction from some of the most skilled warriors in the Soul Society, though,” Byakuya admitted with a slight bow of his head, “I was foolish enough never to truly appreciate their teachings until now.”

The old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. Then, with a little wink, said, “I had no idea the dojos in _Inzuri_ were so fine.”

“Indeed, sir,” Byakuya smiled.

#

 

The ryokan’s landlady was a tall, serious woman with straight black hair that she wore pulled back and in a simple, utilitarian braid. Much about her was no-nonsense, and she preferred a plain black kimono with no embroidery or decoration. Her only affectation seemed to be the pink and red fan that she fluttered in front of her face constantly.

“So,” she said to Byakuya, “You’re that rascal’s newest toy.”

Uncertain how to answer, Byakuya merely said, “I find myself traveling with Yuma Fuschida at the moment, yes.”

“You’re different from the others,” she snapped the fan shut to gesture in his direction. “I’m led to understand that you evaded him quite skillfully, without damaging much of my gardens.”

Byakuya had been careful of the topiary during the afternoon’s altercation, though he couldn’t say the same for Fuschida. “My apologies for any carelessness, if there’re any repairs I can offer—“

“No, thank you. I plan to add any damages to his bill. Will you and your master be moving on soon?”

It was clear the landlady dearly hoped that to be the case. Given the state of the room, Byakuya suspected that Fuschida had overstayed his welcome some time ago. He dipped his head, “I’m afraid I have no idea.”

“Do you have sway over his decisions? I would like him out.”

“I’ll do what I can, my lady,” Byakuya promised, though he hazarded a quick glance at Hisana. She was staring at her plate, pushing fish around dejectedly with her chopsticks. Byakuya disliked the idea of leaving, if only because he had no idea when he might see Hisana again.

“’My lady?’ Where are you _from_ , boy?”

Byakuya blinked. He hadn’t realized quite what he’d said, and now he was caught. Did he lie? “Uh…”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” said one of the other guests at the landlady’s table. It was a middle-aged man, his clothes marked him as a traveling merchant. “If it wasn’t impossible, I’d say he was royalty. But, in any case, that’s a capitol accent if I ever heard one.”

Byakuya kept his face hidden, least he betrayed the truth.

“From _inside_ the Seireitei?” The landlady looked at Byakuya as if he was something curious and unexpected. “Dear boy, whatever are you doing with such a horrible man?”

“I was given in contract,” Byakuya said honestly.

“By your guardian? That’s insane,” the landlady said simply. “You will allow me to speak to your family. There must be better teachers for someone of your breeding. What does your mother think of this arrangement?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say. Sadly, neither my mother nor my father have been able to share their opinion on anything for some time.”

“Oh! An orphan!” The landlady sighed, flicking open the fan to hide her face behind it, “You poor, poor thing.”

#

 

The landlady cooed and fussed over Byakuya for much of the rest of diner, having convinced herself that he’d been sold to Fuschida by an uncaring guardian because he’d become a financial burden when his parents died. Several times he considered disabusing her of this fanciful tale, but it saved him from the humiliation of the truth. Besides, he wasn’t sure if she’d believe him if he told her that he was a disowned and dishonored heir to one of the four most powerful royal families in all of the Soul Society.

Hisana knew, of course, but she played along, keeping the secret of his name, just as she’d promised.

When diner service was over, Byakuya offered to help Hisana clean up in the kitchens. She seemed surprised, but accepted.

“I have no idea what I can do to help,” he admitted, once they found themselves alone with a pile of dirty dishes. “I’ve never—“

“It’s okay,” she smiled. “It’s easy. I can teach you.”

Under Hisana’s gentle and patient tutelage, Byakuya Kuchiki learned to dry the dishes. It wasn’t a difficult task, but it still took him a while to get the hang of it. They were half way through the sack of plates, when she asked, “Are your parents really gone?”

He took the soapy dish she offered and rinsed it. “They are.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Me, too,” he admitted quietly. “I think my father, in particular, would have been delighted to meet you. Though, truthfully, he was always happy to meet anyone from outside the Seireitei. He liked hearing everyone’s story, no matter how humble. He graciously accepted anyone with no judgment.”

“He sounds very kind.”

“ _His_ father thought him foolish, but he was a good man. I miss him,” Byakuya said, though he’d never quite realized how much he truly did until this moment. “Unfortunately, I’ve always been more like my mother. Though I loved her, she could be difficult--hard to please, arrogant, self-absorbed… generally ‘high maintenance.’”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Hisana said, handing him another plate.

He didn’t know what to say to that. As he rinsed and dried automatically, he considered the fact that he was still a lot of those things. Yet so much had changed in the past few days. Even Yoruichi had noticed a difference in him. But, the idea that Ginrei Kuchiki’s despicable plan for his ‘improvement’ had worked in any way caused Byakuya’s stomach to turn and sour. Having placed the plate in the stack, Byakuya gripped the basin of the sink with whitening knuckles.

The bracelet snapped and spit a last spark of pink energy, before making a popping sound.

Suddenly, energy swirled around them, like a great gust of wind, pulling at fabric and hair, swirling it wildly. The entire room vibrated with his anger.

Hisana cried out. She clutched at his elbow, as she stumbled to her knees.

Her reaction startled Byakuya out of his fuming. He drew back into himself, channeling the spiritual pressure into that deep well inside. He took a steady breath. He discovered, however, that to keep control of his newly expanded reistsu, he had to lock his emotions behind that steely fortress wall.

“My deepest apologies, Ms. Hisana,” he said, kneeling down beside her, he offered his hand to help her back up. “It seems I’ve broken free of this chain,” he said, showing her the silver manacle, “Only to lose control of myself.”

“It’s all right,” she said, taking his hand and allowing him to guide her back to her feet. “You’re just so… strong.”

He nodded, though this colossal new power was one of the many changes that had transpired since that fateful moment his family disowned him. Could it be that Ginrei Kuchiki foresaw this outcome as well?

No, Byakuya refused to believe it. No matter what good was gained, it would never be worth the price paid.

 

#

When the last of the dishes were put away, Byakuya wished Hisana a good night. She clutched his wet and wrinkled hands in hers, and pressed them to her bosom. “You’ll tell me where you’re going if you have to leave, won’t you?”

“I will, even if I must send word after we’ve gone,” he promised. She let his hands go, but he captured her fingers and gave them a little squeeze. “You’ve become very important to me, Ms. Hisana.”

“I feel the same way,” she whispered, her voice tremulous.

Byakuya was overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her, but he knew it was far too forward. Reluctantly, he let her go. She scurried away, but she cast many backward glances at him as she fled down the hall to her room.

#

 

Back in Fuschida’s quarters, Byakuya’s revulsion for Fuschida deepened. The man had expended himself at the pleasure of whatever fantasies played out in his mind under the befuddlement charm. Cum pooled between his legs and spattered the already disgusting stickiness of the floor.

 _Well_ , Byakuya thought grimly, _at least he will likely imagine it proof of their lovemaking._

Now came the hardest part.

Byakuya slowly stripped out of his kimono, his eyes focused on the naked man on the floor. He tossed the new clothes as far into the corner as he could to protect them from the general filth of this place. Taking a deep breath, he shuddered. _To lay down with Fuschida_ ….

He would have to do it or the illusion would be spoiled.

Luckily, thanks to the emotional distance he needed to restrain his reistsu, Byakuya discovered he could contain his disgust somewhat. Though he moved slowly, he managed to settle down on the floor. He tucked Fuschida’s arm under his neck, like a pillow. Then, with a deep breath, he flung an arm across Fuschida’s hairy chest.

With so much unwanted physical contact, Byakuya had a hard time falling asleep. His nose was filled with the scent of Fuschida, and his skin crawled wherever their flesh met. A least retreat was always an option. He could fall into that dark place deep inside as an escape. Inside that safe refuge, exhaustion finally overcame him and he slept.

#

 

Byakuya dreamed of his first crush--a man he’d been so foolish for, but who’d been gracious enough to school him in the art of bidō. When he woke to the sensation of fingers lightly stroking his hair, he murmured happily and nearly said the other’s name, “Sensei taicho…?”

“Ah, I’m finally your master and your captain, eh?” Fuschida asked, sounding self-satisfied, but still a little dazed. He was propped up on his elbows, looking down at Byakuya who had somehow, despite the discomfort of a bruised butt, ended up on his back. A leg was thrown over one of Byakuya’s, pinning him lightly.

“Huh,” Fuschida said. “So it wasn’t all a dream.”

Sunlight poured into the room from the courtyard. Finches chirped noisily from the tiled rooftops, heralding an already warm, hazy morning. Byakuya rubbed his eyes, gritty from so long without proper sleep. He had to stifle the urge to pull away and cover himself. Instead, he focused on calm breathing. Perhaps, if he kept his eyes to himself, he could pretend he was fifteen again and in another lover’s bed.

“For some reason, I don’t remember much,” Fuschida said, putting his arm around Byakuya’s waist and leaning over him. “Maybe you could whisper the best parts in my ear. I think I recall some excellent dirty talk.”

The last thing Byakuya wanted was for Fuschida to become aroused again. He turned his face away.

Fuschida stroked the line of Byakuya’s collarbone. Fingers moved lightly down along pectoral muscles. Thumb flicked across nipple, causing Byakuya to start slightly. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to imagine the cool sensation of another’s hands, so refined, so -- so utterly different than those on him now.

It wasn’t working.

For one, Fuschida’s breath smelled like something died inside his mouth. The second, his hands were rough and quick to pinch and pull.

“Come on,” Fuschida said, nuzzling Byakuya’s ear. “Talk to me like you did last night.”

“Exactly like last night?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Very well,” Byakuya said, though he had no idea how many more times he could pull this trick. Tugging on Fuschida’s blond braid, he brought an ear down to his lips. Into it, he whispered the chant again. After the popping sound it made last night, the manacle no longer seemed to function at all. It was surprisingly easy to bring up the necessary spiritual energy for the hakufuku.

After letting out a little giggle, Fuschida fell over like a rag doll.

Byakuya pried Fuschida’s body off him and sat up. How much longer could he continue this game? Eventually the brute would figure out he was being duped. The baffling charm could only muddle and confuse. Reality had an unfortunate way of intruding on falsehoods. Once Fuschida knew the truth, they would have a fight… or something much worse. At least Byakuya might win the battle now that he had kidō back.

Byakuya put a finger in the center of Fuschida’s forehead. It would take less than a second to conjure the necessary power for byakurai, the pale lightning strike. He’d warned Fuschida that he would die by his hand while he slept.

He could do it.

There was no lack of intent today.

But, if he did, then what? Could he drag Fuschida’s lifeless body back to Kuchiki manor and expect a warm welcome? It was difficult to know how murdering this man would fit into Ginrei’s perverted sense of education. Would such an act be a pass or a fail?

Unfortunately, failure came at a high a price. If it was the wrong answer to Byakuya’s problem, then he stood to lose absolutely everything. The name Hisana so diligently guarded for him would be forfeit.

Byakuya slowly removed his finger.

After retrieving his kimono from the corner, Byakuya dressed and headed out to the courtyard. Perhaps in quiet contemplation of the inn’s gardens, he could formulate a plan.

 

#

 

The summer sun was blazingly hot. Byakuya wished for a fan as he sat in the trim grass under the shade of a carefully pruned and shaped maple tree. Due to the heat, he was the only lodger of ryokan in the courtyard garden this late morning. The only other soul present seemed to be a small lizard that sunned itself on the smooth surface of a nearby gray boulder.

The cotton kimono stuck uncomfortably to Byakuya’s sweaty skin. Nothing like silk. Nothing at all.

What was he to do with Fuschida? There were several sleep spells he could employ to keep him at bay, though the hakufuku was by far the longest lasting. However, its efficacy was fading. This time, when Fuschida awoke, he’d likely sense he’d been under the influence of an enchantment. Hakufuku was the kind of weapon that worked best as a surprise or at least used sparingly.

Next Byakuya would have to play his hand more overtly with something like _inemuri_ , the forced slumber. But, while something like that would knock Fuschida out cold, there was no element of illusion or confusion to that spell. The jig would be up. There’d be no more pretending that Byakuya had no kidō.

The question was, did it matter? If he could keep Fuschida asleep indefinitely, why not do it? Ginrei Kuchiki’s only stipulation was that Byakuya return with humility and in control of his emotions. There were no provisions that Fuschida had to be in good health or awake.

Byakuya picked up a stone and tossed it into the faux dry riverbed. It skipped across the pebbles with a clinking sound.

Out from the shadows of the wooden bridge snuck a black cat. It yawned, curling pink tongue, and stretched paws until sharp claws extended. It padded over to where Byakuya sat, and laid down with a huff. Rolling over, it offered a belly for rubbing.

Absently, Byakuya obliged. But, the instant his hands touched black fur, he started, “Mr. Cat? Do I know you?”

“Of course, you do, Byakuya. Don’t be silly,” the cat said in a deep, masculine voice, shifting on its back to encourage more petting.

“Yoruichi?”

Rather than answer, the cat said, “Your grandfather is an asshole, did you know that?”

He frowned at the idea of conversing with a feline, but he said, “I was just considering what to do about Ginrei Kuchiki.”

“I think I’ve convinced him to come,” the cat said, rolling in the grass as through scratching an itch. “But he seems to think you can’t possibly have suffered enough yet.”

Byakuya had no response. After all, what could he say to that?

The cat flipped back over and tucked its paws under itself. A flick of the tail curled its whole body into a tight ball. It blinked its yellow eyes and then let out a little sigh. “I tried to explain how different you were, but he didn’t believe me. I’m sure it pissed him off, but I told that old fart that if he was going to call me a liar he needed to come see for himself.”

Byakuya leaned back into the tree’s trunk, and titled his head back. He closed his eyes to hide the despair he felt. “Lord Kuchiki doesn’t respond well to those kinds of ultimatums, Yoruichi. You’re on a fool’s errand.”

The cat hissed. “I know, damn it. Your family is so fucked up. But I couldn’t help it, okay? What a heartless prick! But, I still think he may come. I told him that he had two days to decide. By this time tomorrow, you’ll either be a Kuchiki again or a retainer in my house.”

Byakuya’s eyes opened, and he glanced at the cat beside him. “You told Ginrei Kuchiki that you planned to buy my contract?”

“Yep,” the cat laid its head down flat on the grass, and stared resolutely ahead as though sighting prey. “I told him that if he didn’t act fast, his only grandson would be a nothing more than a humble servant in the Shihōin house. Oh, and for good measure I reminded him that meant that forevermore all your progeny would belong to us; the Kuchiki house would fall.”

“You’re seriously bold, Mr. Yoruichi,” Byakuya said with a small smile.

Yoruichi’s only response was a deep, satisfied purr.


End file.
